


The Debt

by iamisaac



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 03:19:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: dom/sub - Warning, dub-con - Warning, masturbation - Warning
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3103604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamisaac/pseuds/iamisaac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I hope the tense changes work; sorry if they don’t.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Debt

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the tense changes work; sorry if they don’t.

_**Harry Potter: Severus/Draco**_  
 **Prompt:** 24\. Severus/Draco - set after they run from Hogwarts, dark mood, on the run, isolated. Severus brooding and with a nasty tongue, demands Draco shows his gratitude for S saving his arse on the Astronomy Tower. Draco on his knees sucking S off, genital bondage, D being forced to masturbate while bound. No non-con, but dub-con is okay.  
 **Rating** : NC17  
 **Warnings** : dub-con, dom/sub, masturbation  
 **Word Count** : ~2000  
 **Author’s Note:** I hope the tense changes work; sorry if they don’t.

 

Draco is on his knees a few feet in front of Severus. On his knees, naked and submissive; obedient to every order he is given.

His mind flashes back.

*

“Sir… Professor…”

“This is not the moment for talking,” snapped Severus, as he thrusted Draco before him from the Hogwarts grounds.

Dumbledore lay dead behind them. Dumbledore. Lay dead. In the grounds of his school. Killed by Severus.

“I…”

“ _Silence!_ ”

The word was quiet, but deadly. Draco was quiet immediately as Severus took hold of his arm in a vice like grip. The world spun around him; his insides threatening to become outsides as he was jerked through space in a forced Apparation. When they landed, he stumbled to the ground.

“Th.. thank you,” he mumbled to Severus’s feet. “I owe you so much. But… I don’t understand… I’m sorry that I… I thought…”

“There is only one thing that you need to understand, Draco,” Severus said coldly. “Yes, you do owe me a great debt. And I intend to get payment from you. In full. Do you understand that?”

And Draco had nodded. But he hadn’t understood, not then. He understood now.

*

“Are you obedient?” demands Severus now.

Draco nods. He is not allowed to speak at moments like this unless directly addressed; and sometimes even then it is better just to signal his agreement.

“Are you willing?”

Draco nods again. How can he be unwilling, when his debt hangs over him like the shadow of death? A life debt. He knows, really, that he can never hope to repay it. Severus’s face flickers, but if there is emotion shown then Draco can’t read it. He waits. At moments like this, all he can do is wait. Severus likes to prolong this moment, making Draco fear everything that might come – fear of pain, fear of humiliation, but most of all the terrible terrible fear that he will enjoy what is coming to him. And that Severus will know. Severus _always_ knows.

*

The first time, he was utterly terrified.

“Put your hands out in front of you;” and Draco had obeyed.

With a flick of his wand, Severus had bound his wrists together. With another flick, Draco was naked. Draco had met Severus’s eyes and stammered

“P..Professor, I… What…”

“You will not speak without permission,” Severus said coldly; then, as an after thought, “And I am a Professor no longer.”

Draco was miserably conscious of his own nudity. Severus had the sort of glance that could make you feel naked even when dressed; when undressed it felt like he was raking your soul. Draco stood with his hands in front of him in a desperate attempt to preserve his modesty, though he felt that he might have preferred to cover his face, such was the power of Severus’s gaze.

“Kneel down.”

Draco took a breath as if to speak; then, hanging his head, knelt. Severus made a small movement of his wand, and Draco could feel something around his neck. He raised bound hands to feel.

“It is a collar.” Snape’s voice was emotionless. “You admitted you were indebted to me. Do you still acknowledge that debt?”

“Y-yes.”

“Are you prepared to pay?”

“Yes,” Draco whispered.

“Then listen. Whenever that collar is around your neck, you belong to me. You will obey my every instruction, every… whim.” He saw the blank look of terror on Draco’s face and smiled sardonically. “You will still keep your pretty looks; you will not be hurt. You will simply learn obedience. Do you agree?”

Draco was past speech. He nodded jerkily.

“How… satisfying,” Severus murmured. “And to reward your docility, you may begin by pleasuring yourself.”

Grey eyes flicked up to black.

“I… don’t understand.”

“Oh, I think you do,” Severus had said, very, very, softly.

And Draco had thought _Please let me not understand. Please let Severus not mean what I think he means._

“Touch yourself,” Severus ordered quietly. “Let me see how you give yourself pleasure.”

And _no, no, please, no_ had been Draco’s panicked thoughts. Not here, not now, not in front of his ex-teacher, on his knees. Even in the Hogwarts dormitory, behind the velvet curtains of his bed, Draco had never been able to masturbate unless the room was empty. Perhaps it was the legacy of being an only, solitary, child; perhaps prudishness; perhaps an arrogant unwillingness to lower his defences. And now, he was being asked – no, ordered – to touch himself, bring himself off, under the cold watching eye of (ex)Professor Snape.

And he couldn’t refuse.

Slowly, he lowered his hands (and eyes: he couldn’t look at Severus, couldn’t bear to see the expression on the other man’s face) and moved them slowly over himself, fingers rubbing against his cock, fondling his testicles, touching and moving and touching again. He was hampered at every movement by the binding around his wrists, feeling clumsy, awkward, constrained by the inability to use his hands separately. He heard a small grunt of annoyance from Severus, and his hands were freed.

“Later, you will learn to do this bound. But for now…”

Draco had tried not to think about the fatal word ‘later’. This was bad enough without dwelling on future possibilities. But the freedom of his hands helped. He could feel the heat of Severus’s gaze even without looking at him, and his face was a fiery red with embarrassment as he brought one hand up to tease at a nipple whilst the other played anxiously with his irritatingly aroused cock. This was wrong; he shouldn’t be getting off with Severus watching every movement he made – but somehow the message had not been passed down to his genitals and his erection was hard and attentive under the pressure of his fingers.

His mind strayed, and he imagined Severus’s hands where his own were, stroking with a firm, repetitive motion. He shut his eyes and fell further into his fantasy: Severus was moving faster – faster – and Draco’s breathing was laboured and desperate. Severus’s other hand was touching his body; running teasing, slim fingers over his chest; pinching first one nipple then the other; dipping down over his stomach and onto his thighs.

“Oh..” he cried, his hands never ceasing to fondle. “Oh…”

And then the moment that would replay itself to his humiliation over and over in his head –

“Severus,” he said; and came.

*

And now, once more, the collar is around his neck. He is Severus’s play-thing, his toy. He has no mind of his own but will be bent to Severus’s will. Whatever Severus asks. _Whatever_.

“Crawl to me.”

Draco bites the inside of his mouth and tastes the blood inside. Severus knows he hates to do this. Thinks it is a good ‘lesson’ for his pet, to help him learn humility. There seem to be so many lessons that Severus thinks it is important for Draco to learn. He lowers his head and crawls obediently, head bent before Severus in a gesture of submission.

“Yes, you are learning,” approves Severus; and Draco can feel the pulse throbbing in his veins as he listens to his master. A booted foot is thrust in front of him. “Lick.”

Draco is grovelling on the floor to do as he is bidden, uncomfortably aware of an ache in his groin which can not be disguised as pain. The thick leather is smooth beneath his tongue; the taste not unpleasant but strange. He knows that Severus knows that he is aroused, and is amused by it; amused that having Draco naked, cringing and subservient is enough to make the boy hard; knowing that Draco is shamed more by his own enjoyment than by the humiliation of the acts he is required to perform.

“And up…”

Draco has learned what this means, too. His tongue licks a path up Severus’s leg, and Severus shifts his gown so that he is exposed to Draco. He is forbidden to lift his hands from the floor; obliged to crouch as his mouth widens to take Severus inside it. So heavy, so full in his mouth; he makes Draco feel inadequate; still only half-grown and boyish. And Draco knows – forces down the thought – that he wants to do this, wants desperately to be moving his mouth, his tongue, around Severus’s cock; revelling in the bitter tempting taste of his master. It is Draco’s breathing, not Severus’s, that catches and falters. Draco who can feel his own unsubduable cock pushing against the ground until he longs to rub himself up against Severus, his straining erection against the older man’s leather boot until orgasm can be contained no longer. And he screws his eyes shut because he shouldn’t be having these thoughts; but the taste – the _feel_ \- of Severus is stretching his control to breaking point.

“Draco…”

There is an unusual note in Severus’s voice, and it takes Draco several seconds to realise that it is kindness. He opens his eyes and raises his face to look at Severus, his mouth still wide around him. He says nothing. Severus moves back slightly so that Draco is freed, and Draco’s teeth bite down hard on his lip to prevent him begging Severus to allow him to continue.

“Why not admit it?” Severus asks gently.

“I don’t…” Draco begins, uncertainly.

“Draco” - and Severus’s voice is as mesmerising as ever – “There is no shame in your arousal.”

But there is, oh, there is. When Draco is naked and collared, obliged to obey and yet still desperate. Draco wills his eyes not to fill with even more humiliating tears.

“Why do you not give in to it? Admit your desire?”

“I… can’t.”

Not won’t. Can’t. Can’t admit that the idea of losing control, of submission, of dependence… can’t admit that it turns him on more than anything before. That kneeling before Severus makes him hot and hard.

“That Malfoy pride.” Severus’s voice is harsh again. “You would give up everything, would you not, not to look weak?” He stares with bleak eyes at Draco. “And yet you are kneeling at my feet now, your cock _begging_ for my attention. Do you really think I can’t see?”

Draco’s eyes fall, and he is finding it hard to swallow past the lump in his throat. He has always known that Severus knows… knows… _everything_. But Severus has never mentioned it before; has allowed Draco this one semblance of privacy, of control. Now it has been stripped away, and Draco has nothing… nothing.

And Severus is a legilimens.

“It doesn’t have to be nothing. Embrace it, Draco.” There is a pause. “Trust me.” The words seem to cost Severus some effort.

Perhaps… perhaps this isn’t so one-sided. Draco hesitates, and lifts his head once more.

“Severus…” he whispers. “Please…?”

And Severus gently guides Draco to his feet and takes possession of his mouth in a long, strangely tender, kiss. Suddenly, the lump is gone from Draco’s throat, and as the kiss ends, he says the words.

“I trust you.” He hesitates, but there is no turning back. “I… want you. Like this. Please.”

Later, he wonders if he had ever seen Severus smile before.

* * *


End file.
